


Legally Blondehawk

by esizzle



Category: Legally Blonde - All Media Types, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Legally Blonde Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Murder Mystery, Pencey Prep - Freeform, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:01:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esizzle/pseuds/esizzle
Summary: Frank Iero is a punk rocker, his boyfriend Warner Huntington III is a future senator. They don’t seem like they should go together, and truth be told they shouldn’t, but that isn’t gonna stop Frank from stalking him all the way to an ivy-league school to win him back.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Warner Huntington III/Vivian Kensington
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to say a huge thank you to my two wonderful betas @definitelynotgay here on ao3, and @homosexual-having-tea on tumblr. For not only helping me build the courage to finally write my first fic, but for getting me through the logistics of it all too.

“I think Warner’s gonna propose tomorrow night at the Misfits show.”

“What makes you think that?” Shaun, Frank’s longtime friend and the keyboardist for his band, looked up from his phone and gave Frank a bemused look. “Besides, shouldn’t you be happy about that? You guys have been dating for, like, almost two years now.”

“Well yeah, but ever since he went back upstate to visit his family, he’s been all weird. I think he finally came out or something, but he keeps avoiding it every time I try to bring it up. He doesn’t seem upset or anything, though. And I’m not, like, unhappy about it.” Frank said defensively. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Wren to pieces, but I just think we’re kinda young to be getting married, y'know?”

“What? So you’re just gonna say no and break his heart because the timing is wrong? That’s low even for you, Iero! You love him, he loves you, why not make it official?” he said, gesturing in the way only a true New Jersey bastard could.

“Okay you might be right. If he really did come out to his family, that takes some serious balls. His dad’s a senator, so he’s got this whole like, public image thing. I met them all over the summer; I think I told you. It’s super creepy like, uncanny valley level of off-putting, the whole house!” The memory of sneaking across the hall into Warner’s room on those summer nights popped up, making Frank smirk.

“Ha! Yeah, I remember you being reeeeeally upset about having to spend a whole two weeks with your adoring boyfriend in his parent’s mansion.”

“Oh shut up, it was like a horror movie there! If I can help it, I’ll never step foot in that place again! Too bad Warner’s such a mama’s boy and is probably gonna drag me up there on every holiday imaginable once we’re married.”

“Oh, so now you’re all on board with it?” Frank opened his mouth to argue, but realized how his words had already betrayed him and thought better of it. “I’m honestly really happy for you Frank, I’m glad at least one of us miserable fucks managed to find love.” Shaun said sincerely.

“Well I never would’ve met him if it wasn’t for Pencey. I owe you guys some credit.” Frank blushed, the reality of his decisions starting to sink in a little bit.

“It’s a good thing Tim didn’t like, chew him out too bad for you guys hooking up in the bathroom that first night. Would’ve probably scared his poor closeted-ass off for good!” laughed Shaun.

“I feel so bad for him though! Poor guy didn’t choose to have his dad breathing down his neck about becoming a senator to continue the good family name or whatever. I wonder how he took the news, I haven’t had any hit-men hunt me down yet so maybe he isn’t quite as intolerant as I thought.” 

What Frank wouldn’t have given to see the look on his future father-in-law’s face when he realized that he’d let his son’s aggressive punk rocker boyfriend stay under his roof for _two whole weeks_ , without him realizing that they were dating. He knows he should probably learn to be civil if only to please Warner, but Frank wasn’t really a fan of hiding his opinions on things. Which was something almost every teacher he’d ever had disdainfully pointed out to his poor mother in annual parent teacher conferences. Frank’s opinions about the senator, who he’d had the total displeasure of getting to know, were no exception. If anything Frank loved expressing his distaste for the man even more than most other topics, because every thing about his beloved boyfriend that he disliked could be traced conveniently back to his father. 

“Yeah, good luck trying to decide what to get that dude for Christmas every year from now on." Shaun joked and kicked Frank’s leg from his spot next to him on the couch.

“Oh god don’t remind me!” groaned Frank, because as much as he loved his boyfriend, his dad was truly Frank’s least favorite person on the face of the earth.

Their bassist, John or as they often called him ‘Hambone’, poked his head through the door. “Hey, you guys should get out here, we’re on in five." Frank bounced up off the couch with even more energy than usual, to the point of practically vibrating. “Holy shit, did someone spike your coffee or something?”

Frank’s smile somehow managed to get even wider than it was before. Shaun jumped in to explain, “No it’s just, Wren’s totally gonna propose to him tomorrow night!”

“Oh damn, that’s great.” said Hambone, “speaking of, I think I just saw Warner hanging around by the bar. Maybe he’s cruisin’ around for other gay punk rockers in case you say no.” He joked.

“Well if I were him I wouldn’t get my panties all in a twist worrying about it, judging by Frankie’s moon eyes I think there’s about a 99.9% chance he’ll say yes.” said Shaun.

“Hey hey hey!” said Frank, finally getting the chance to interrupt “don’t jinx it! He hasn’t actually said anything about it yet. Besides, we really should get started.” And though he liked to pretend he was something of a hardass, his almost impossibly wide smile that night completely revealed his soft side. 

-

Frank couldn’t sit still for the entire drive to the Misfits concert, babbling endlessly about what songs they’d play, and which ones might be worth having Pencey cover, in an attempt to hide his nervous excitement over the rapidly approaching proposal. His mind raced with questions about when he’d do it, in the middle of a song? They didn’t really have any specific ‘relationship song’ that he’d do it during. Partially because Frank was a songwriter and would rather rely on his own words to portray how he feels than someone else’s, but also because he hated wasting cool songs by bands he loved on dudes who it ended up not working out with. Or maybe he’d do it right before the show started? It would give them a chance to bask in the glow of their love for the entire concert, Frank always loved showing off his boyfriend when they went to shows together. It just seemed so perfect since they met at one of Frank’s shows to take things to the next level at one of their favorite band’s shows. Or what if he waited until the very end so they could go home and celebrate, among other things.

So when the entire show came and went without Warner coming anywhere near proposing, Frank was starting to get a bit anxious. He wasn’t going to try and do it while driving or something stupid like that, right? Or maybe he’d set up his apartment with rose petals and all that romantic shit that Frank always pretended to hate, but secretly loved. It all started to make sense when Warner pulled his car into the parking lot of their favorite diner. Frank took his hand, and they walked to their usual secluded booth in the back. 

“So…” Warner said cautiously, after the waitress had given them their food. “I have a feeling you might know what’s going on.” 

Frank put on his best confused expression, starting in on his veggie burger, “Huh? What makes you think that Wren? We’re just stopping for dinner at our usual spot, we do this like twice a week.” he had to wonder whether or not Warner would be able to see right through his blatant lie.

“Well, I’m sure you remember my plans to become a senator, just like my father.” Frank nodded, taking a sip of his water between bites. “When I visited a couple weeks ago he reminded me just how soon law school is coming up, and it got me thinking. Most senators are already married by the time they’re elected, it makes you look more dependable and stable. Actually, it’s all around really good for my career to get married, and my father agrees.”

Frank almost choked on his veggie burger, “Your father agrees with you on something? That’s a new one.” Warner half smiled at his joke.

“I really do need to start thinking seriously about my future,” When Warner reached out to take Frank’s hand, Frank had to stop and panic for a moment trying to remember which hand the ring is supposed to go on, before choosing his left. “I know things have been pretty rocky as far as me not being out to my family yet,” Frank smiled, ‘I was right about Warner coming out during that last visit’ he thought. “but over these past two years I couldn’t have asked for a more caring, hotter boyfriend.” 

“I’m so glad you think so babe, I’ve been thinking about my future too, and-” Warner cut him off.

“I’m not done talking yet.” Frank felt heat wash over his cheeks and let out a feeble apology. “I was thinking about where you would fit in all of this, and I…” Frank stopped listening, the words _‘this is it, it’s happening!’_ being chanted too loudly in his head for him to be able to take in any of what Warner was saying. Thoughts of venue, and flowers, and renting a tux flashed through his head until the phrase “... we have to break up.” made his blood run cold.

“I-I’m sorry, what?” Frank managed to stammer out. He felt dizzy, like if he stood up he might pass out. He could feel the tears quickly welling up in his eyes, and his lip started to tremble.

“I’m sorry Frankie, but it’s not like we didn’t know all along that this wasn’t bound to happen. I mean I’m going to become a senator, I can’t exactly have a punk like you as my partner, I’d never get my campaign off the ground!” Frank could feel new rage mixing with his intense feelings of betrayal.

“ _You’re dumping me for fucking POLITICAL GAIN?_ ” Frank yelled, and stood in the booth, causing the small number of other patrons in the diner to stop their conversations and stare. Warner noticed this, and started tugging on Frank’s hand to get him to sit back down. Frank, still dizzy, complied reluctantly.

“Listen Frankie,” he said in a hushed and smooth tone, running his thumb over Frank’s hand the way he knew he liked. Frank felt sick. “It’s nothing that you did, not at all. I still love you, it’s just that if I’m serious about my career I need a Jackie, not a Marilyn.” 

“Oh so I’m not serious enough for you? Well let me tell you something Warner. I might never fit into the perfect country club husband mold, and maybe I do dye my hair, scream into microphones and make no effort to hide my sexuality. And maybe even after all this time you still don’t take me seriously, but I wish you did because no matter what I’m always going to be seriously in love with you!” And at that Frank stormed out of the diner, tears streaking his cheeks and face red hot with shame.

As he stepped outside and called a cab to get back to his dorm, he prayed that his driver wouldn’t ask him too many questions.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank has an idea.

“We can cancel the show if you want to Frank. I’m sure we could just tell the venue that you’re sick or something, and they’d understand,” said Hambone, pity saturating his voice. He felt bad for Frank, but it had been like two weeks at this point and he was growing tired of having to babysit his heartbroken friend.

“No, s’fine.” Frank said, wiping chocolate off his face. So what if he’d wanted to go on a junk food bender? It made him feel better, and didn’t leave him with a nasty hangover. Not that he hadn’t gone on an actual bender right after the breakup, but he needed to give his liver a break so chocolate it was. “I could probably use a little distance from my candy supply anyway, I really don’t need to develop diabetes in a record breaking one week time span.” He sat up from his cocoon of blankets and shut off the small TV, which had been playing Young Frankenstein before his friends had come in.

“That’s the spirit! You wanna go rehearse?” asked Neil. Frank nodded and then reluctantly shuffled his way into his tiny attached bathroom to put on some clean clothes instead of the same band T-shirt that he’d had on for three days. He really should shower but changing and putting on deodorant was gonna have to cut it for now.

Tim, ever the optimist added, “Good, moping around isn’t gonna make that bastard pull his head out of his ass any sooner, though it’s so far up there it’s probably safe to call it a lost cause at this point.” His band mates stood laughing guiltily in the center of his tiny dorm. 

Frank was in his senior year at Rutgers, studying music on a scholarship. If he was honest with himself, had it not been for the scholarship he probably would’ve stayed in his hometown and just started working a day job while doing shows with his high school band at night. He had no idea what he was going to do with his degree once he actually got it, but it had definitely beat staying in his hometown with everyone who’d called him slurs in high school. That hadn’t really gotten to Frank, though. If anything, it’d helped him develop his “do no harm but take no shit” attitude. It sucked that the faculty did little to intervene, but little towns were just kinda shitty like that sometimes, and Frank couldn’t blame them for not wanting to confront some of those kids. One specific meathead named Jason was the reason that Frank now carried a switchblade at all times, but that’s neither here nor there.

He emerged from the bathroom feeling a bit fresher, having combed out his mohawk while he was changing.he’d had dreadlocks once before and he could not say it was a good look on him, though it was what he’d had when he started dating Warner so maybe he should rethink that.

“Alright let’s head out.”

-

Even though Pencey Prep was a totally legitimate band and definitely played shows in reputable venues, they still practiced most weeks in the basement of Tim’s mom’s house. It was musty in the way that most old basements were, and it was way out on the outskirts of town, making it a bitch to get to. They wished they could afford to rent out a professional practice space, but it just wasn’t happening at the moment. Frank had come to like it there, though. Mrs. Hagevik was pretty nice to them, and her house always smelled like cookies, making it not a half bad place to spend his Saturdays. 

“Oh Frankie!” called Mrs. Hagevik from the porch when they were climbing out of the Hambone’s van. She pulled him into a hug when he got close enough. “I heard what happened to you sweetie, I’m so sorry. I baked you a batch of those peanut butter cookies you like, here.” She handed him a massive Tupperware box filled with cookies. This got a laugh out of Frank, nothing like a mom to feed you through the pain. She ushered them in and offered the usual snacks for them, which they politely declined, assuring her they’d just steal from Frank’s new massive cookie stash. And then they headed down into the basement.

Frank knew the real relief would come when he had his guitar back in his hands, he’d been neglecting his playing in favor of watching cheesy old horror movies and crying for the past two weeks. There’s nothing in the world quite like the subtle pain of the strings when you haven’t played in a while, a sweet, dull ache that was usually perfect for distracting Frank from any emotional pain he was going through. That day things were different though, the chords felt empty as his hands moved up and down the neck. Usually when Frank played he was able to get so into the music that it seemed like he performed with his whole soul, his mind and body working together with intense passion, to the point where it was almost an out of body experience. Now he felt like he was just going through the motions, rhythm slightly off, too aware of what his fingers were doing, and fumbling on things he could usually play with ease, unable to keep the name “Marilyn” out of his mind. Was that really all Warner saw him as? It couldn’t have been, if that was all he saw Frank as, Frank would’ve noticed before now. Warner had genuine feelings for Frank, he was sure of it. This all had to be Warner’s family’s fault, they were the ones who wanted him to be a senator so bad, Warner always used to tell Frank that he was only doing it because of the intense pressure from his family. They must've convinced him on his last visit that Frank would be bad for his campaign or something, even if they never found out about their relationship, which in hindsight was fairly obvious, being close with a punk rocker like Frank would only tarnish Warner’s image.

Then, suddenly an idea hit him, like lightning through his veins. All at once, everything clicked into place. He had a solution.

“Oh my god!” He shouted and stopped playing. He ran a hand through the long hair on top of his head, pushing it back out of his face. “Okay, okay, I just had an idea. Warner, he needs someone serious right? He’s going off to law school, and his family wants him to have that perfect senator life, but the thing is, I can give him that!” Frank started pacing back and forth in the small space, “I just have to go to Harvard too! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before! It’s so simple!”

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, Frank? Harvard?” asked Shaun, giving his friend a bewildered look.

“Of course! I just need to prove that I can be someone his family will approve of! If I go to the same law school as Warner, they’ll see that I’m just as good as they are. Right now, I’m just some dude with a mohawk and a band to them, but if they see me being all sophisticated, they’ll have to accept me!” Frank was growing more manic with each passing second, waving his hands wildly through the air. His thoughts almost visible through the gestures he was making.

“Alright,” came Hambone.“I know you Frank. I can tell you aren’t going to drop this no matter how stupid a plan it is, but you really have to think this through. Even if you get in, it isn’t going to be cheap. I have no idea how you think you’re gonna pull this off, but you better think of something fast. Aren’t applications due by December or something?” he said, voice serious.

“Well I have a 4.0 GPA, and besides they gotta have some kind of financial aid, right? I got a full-ride for Rutgers. I can probably get a couple small scholarships or something.” 

“Do I really need to remind you that your 4.0 as a music major probably won’t get you too far in law school?” said Hambone, making Shaun and Tim laugh. 

“Listen,” said Frank, passion clearly fueling his enthusiasm. “I can’t just give up on what Warner and I have. I was ready to marry him! This is the kind of love that I will fight for if I have to, the kind of love I’d suffer through law school for!”

“If you’re actually serious about this Frank, you’re gonna have to study your ass off to get in. I heard you need at least a 175 on your LSAT for you to even have a chance,” said Shaun. “No way you’re gonna have time to keep doing shows while studying. I hate to say it, but you’re probably gonna have to choose.”

Frank’s face fell at that, and the reality of his situation started to sink in. He knew that in going to Harvard he’d have to put on a bit of a serious facade and ditch the punk band, but losing them before he even left town? It made his chest ache. He knew that he always felt the most himself when he was performing, but he also had to remind himself that this is the love of his life on the line. Frank didn’t think this was the kind of thing he could just let pass him by, If he did he’d spend the rest of his life wondering how things could have been. Even if it meant giving up Pencey Prep, a love like this is once in a lifetime, and Frank wasn’t ready to let go of that just yet. And so his decision was made, he had no choice but to try to follow Warner.

-

After about two months of studying, the time to actually take the LSAT was fast approaching. Shaun and Hambone had been helping him do practice tests. Every test he took, no matter how much he studied, he seemed to be stuck getting the same score. One hundred and sixty four was his new least favorite number. Ten measly points stood between him and Harvard. It was not nearly as many as when he started, but it still felt like an impossible gap to fill. Lately, whenever he tried to study, all he could think of was how much he missed playing with Pencey. Neil and Tim had both joined other bands pretty quickly after the break up was official, and if Frank was being honest with himself, it kind of stung. He’d been hoping to get Pencey back together once he was done at Harvard and had won Warner back, but they’d moved on alarmingly fast. He wanted to go see one of their new bands, but with his practice scores stuck where they were, Shaun and Hambone were making him stay in on weekends to keep studying. It wasn’t fair, he knew that they’d both seen their new bands, but Frank also knew that this punishment was his own doing. He knew full well what he had signed up for, and even though having to stop attending shows altogether sucked, he wasn’t about to give in now. So on the day of the test he went in, he held his head high and reminded himself that his love would be waiting for him on the other side.

“I’m too nervous. Can’t one of you open it?” Frank whined, holding the letter which held his results out towards his friends who were lounging on the ratty old couch in Shaun’s apartment. It was some hand-me-down from one of his brothers that had been loved a little bit too hard over the years and as a result the cushions had gone all flat and the fabric was wearing out in certain spots.

“You serious? Poor wittle Fwankie too afwaid to open his mail?” Hambone said, already grabbing the letter out of Frank’s hand and opening it. “Holy shit!” he cried, almost spitting out the mouthful of dry Fruit Loops that he’d been snacking on.

“What? What is it?” said Frank, clamoring over the back of the couch to try and get a look at the letter.

“Frank, you got a 179!” yelled Hambone.

Frank’s jaw immediately dropped, and his eyes went wide. “No fucking way!” he shouted, losing his balance and slipping face first into the already smushed couch cushion, then onto the floor. He twisted around and shot back up to his feet, Hambone and Shaun already standing to congratulate him. Frank almost couldn’t believe that he actually had a shot at getting in. He’d never studied so much in his life, so if he didn’t get accepted after everything, sacrificing his band, leaving the local music scene, putting everything he had into his relationship with Warner, Frank didn’t know what he’d do. 

-

The Harvard admissions board sat in a musty office, a group of five on that day, plus one intern. The room was lined with large mahogany bookshelves, which contained literary classics and law books mostly, though none of the books appeared to be written anytime sooner than the fifties. Cold December light filtered in through the half-closed blinds of the second story window overlooking the busy campus, illuminating the otherwise fairly dark room. Four stacks of files littered the otherwise organized table, those who were accepted, those who were rejected, those put on a wait list, and the unsorted. The last of which had been growing steadily smaller as the day went on.

“Mr. Aaron Shultz,” droned a graying professor in a horribly outdated tweed jacket. They’d been going for hours, but the team of law professors were experts at feigning interest, something the unfortunate intern lacked. The poor boy was struggling to stay awake, busy imagining what each applicant might look like in his head as an attempt to be engaged. Unfortunately, after this many hours, his imagination was growing tired and they had all started to melt into generic blobs. This candidate certainly wasn’t helping, as he was some software engineer with a genius IQ and more money than he knows what to do with. The guy practically screamed “khaki slacks” and this was based off of verbal description alone. Of course the professors seemed to like him though, murmuring to each other that, “his experience is excellent, and he has many alumni connections...” and naturally, Aaron gets admitted.

“Alright, who’s next?” said the professor, the intern passing him the first file at the top of the ‘unsorted’ pile. He began to read the application outloud, as he had done with all the others. “Mr. Frank Iero, excellent LSAT and GPA, had a full-ride to Rutgers.” 

Murmurs of approval came from around the antique table, if there’s one thing he’d learned from helping the professors with the application process, it was that full scholarships were a major green light for admission. Too bad this Frank kid sounded as equally dry as a dehydrated piece of toast. “His personal essay is severely lacking, and what’s this- he’s a music major?” Now this piqued the intern’s interest. It wasn’t every day that you’d see a major like that applying to law school. He supposed most of those types of people were too creatively fluid to go into the rigid legal system, though he wished that more law students would show that kind of passion. You’d be surprised how many of them went through law school just as a means to some end. It was downright offensive to people the people who actually had a passion for the things that law could accomplish, the kind of justice that could be achieved with a good defense team. The professor’s words snapped the boy back out of his thoughts “Oh that simply won’t do. Put him in the reject pile, would you Gerald?” The intern, startled, sprung into action. He didn’t even think to scowl at the professor getting his name wrong. “Okay, who else have we got?” continued the old professor, and Gerard was almost sad to move on from imagining Mr. Iero.

Late that evening, the intern crept back into the office where the files were being kept. He’d left his coffee mug behind before he left, just in case security managed to sneak up on him and question what he was doing in the building at night. Maybe it was wrong of him to meddle with the application process, but in Gerard’s opinion Harvard needed more people like Mr. Iero. So, he decided that one of the applications he'd particularly disliked from earlier that day, Bradford Roberts, who was the son of some judge in Missouri, could actually deal with not getting accepted. He slipped Frank’s file in its place after one last guilty look at it. Gerard graduated in a few months anyways so hopefully the statute of limitations would expire before they ever found out what he’d done. “Welcome to Harvard, Frank.” He whispered to himself in the dark room, before fleeing to his studio apartment off campus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to update, I'm definitely still getting the hang of this! Did any of you guys get tickets to either the one of the tours? I was trying for the Tacoma show, but they were almost sold out by the time I got through the line and being sold at a crazy markup, so I didn't buy any. Resale tickets are still expensive, but the price is going down so I might end up getting tickets if I can afford them. Anyways, I'd love to hear your guys' opinions on the chapter length and the pacing of the story so far. Hopefully the next chapter won't take me as long, but I am starting CNA clinicals this week so I will likely be a bit busier than usual. Sometimes I post updates on my tumblr (@iamsecretlyabagel) so you can follow me there if you want the hot gossip on how the next chapter is coming.


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